


The Story That I'm Sticking To

by ShrimpZilla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 13:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2774171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrimpZilla/pseuds/ShrimpZilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. </p><p>Marian Hawke runs a private investigation company with her brother Carver. She meets Anders, a doctor running a free clinic in the city with a complicated past, and tries to welcome him into her life and the lives of her friends. Amid crime, heartbreak, and a lot of drinking two people desperately try to make it work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my modern AU for Dragon Age. I've been thinking about doing it for awhile and just figured I'd give it a shot. I hope you enjoy. Also, if anyone would be interested in beta-reading future chapters I would be grateful. I'm terrible when left to proofreading my own stuff.

            “Hawke, why are you making that face?”

            “She’s got a toothache.”

            “No, I don’t, Varric. I’m fine. See? All smiles!”

            “Just go to the dentist.”

            “Marian’s afraid of the dentist.”

            “I’m not a baby, Carver. I’m not scared of the dentist.”

            “Well, I don’t care if you go to the dentist or get into a fist fight but that tooth’s gotta go because I can’t watch you make those faces anymore.”

            “Don’t give her any ideas, Bela.”

            “Varric’s right. She’s just going to go start a fight now and we’ll wind up cleaning up the mess.”

            “I’m fine! My tooth doesn’t hurt! My face always looks this way!”

 

 

            Anders frowned at the woman who had come sauntering into his clinic and demanding his immediate attention. She was holding out a picture of a young man with one hand and was rubbing her cheek with the other. “So have you seen him?” She repeated. He took the photo from her fingers and stared down at it. Yes, he had seen him. A week ago. But that didn’t mean that he felt comfortable sharing that information with this woman. She claimed to be a private detective hired by the boy’s group home. “Fuck,” the woman muttered under her breath. She winced and pressed her hand harder to her cheek.

            “Do you have a toothache?” Anders asked in his doctor voice. He leaned a little, trying to discern if there was any swelling in her face.

            “No!” She exclaimed. “Why do you people keep asking me that?” Despite himself he felt a smile tugging at his lips. Normally difficult patients were his least favorite thing. He supposed he wasn’t actually his patient. But he thought his amusement was more situated in the stubborn pout that had taken up on her face.

            “Probably because you’re holding your face and clearly in pain.” He put the picture down on the narrow table against the wall and slapped on a pair of gloves. He turned back to the woman. “Let me have a look?” She brought the butt of her hand over her mouth and looked at him as if he was crazy. He settled her with a patient stare and her resolve weakened. She pulled her hand away and let it rest in her lap. Anders rose an encouraging eyebrow. She opened her mouth. He stepped closer and put his middle finger in her mouth, letting it tug her cheek to the side so he could look at the row of teeth. “This might hurt,” he warned before tapping at the back of her molars with his index finger. She jolted and cried out in startled pain. Anders pulled his hand out. “You need to go to a dentist. I can recommend someone if you don’t already have one.”

            “I don’t want to go to a dentist,” she responded petulantly. “Can’t you do something about it?”

            “No,” Anders chuckled. “The most I could offer is a painkiller and maybe an antibiotic since it’s probably an infection causing the pain.” The woman sighed and returned her hand to cradling her cheek. “Look, if you agree to go to the dentist I’ll answer whatever questions I can.” She seemed to think it over, casting a curious look up at him through her eyelashes. She was stubborn but didn’t seem totally unreasonable. Of course, there was really no way for him to know if after he answered her question she would actually go to the dentist. He realized in an almost pathetically delayed fashion that he was—in some small and totally inefficient manner—flirting with her. He hoped she hadn’t noticed. Sometimes he didn’t know what was wrong with him.

            “Fine,” she relented. “But I’m not happy about it.” She grinned at him while she said it. Anders smiled back. It was nearly impossible not to. She was one of those people.

            “He was here two weeks ago. I can’t discuss what I treated him for but he came with an older man. Said he was the father but I’m guessing that wasn’t actually the case.” He felt like a fool as he recounted what he could. The look of the man, anything that had struck him as strange, conversations he had had with the young man in the past.

            “Do you think he could have run off with this older man? Or been abducted?” She asked.

            “I’m not sure. He always seemed unhappy whenever I saw him, but well, most people I see look like that. I’m running a free clinic. People don’t come here on their good days. That’s really all I can say.” He shrugged. He didn’t think he had helped much. She sighed and clicked a button on the recorder she had been using. He led her out of the room and back to the waiting room so she could leave. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more help,” he said as he watched her pull on her jacket. He gestured to the next person to go down the hall into the examining room. It was going to be a long day still.

            “Don’t be sorry,” she said with another of those mood changing smiles. “You’re doing a good thing here.” She inclined her head to indicate the free clinic. He felt his cheeks heat slightly, less from the compliment but more from the fact that this woman has no idea how many rules he was breaking. She pulled out a card from her pocket and handed it to him. He looked at it. It was white with a red bird logo embossed on it. The words “Hawke Family Investigations” were written large and bold. He glanced from the business card back to her.

            “In case I hear anything?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Oh wait!” She took it quickly from his loose grip and fumbled in her pocket until she found a pen. She began writing something and then handed it back. Anders looked at the back of the card. In in a slanted hand it read the word ‘Marian’ followed by what he could only assume was her cell phone number. “If your or any of your patients ever need anything,” she added quickly.

Then she left.

It was going to be a really long day.

 

A few weeks later Anders was reading the paper while sitting on his bed with a cup of coffee. He had limited space in the apartment, most of the rooms being dedicated to things to do with the clinic, so eating and drinking in bed was a common practice. It was yesterday’s paper that someone had left in the waiting room the day before. He didn’t mind. Just because he was a day behind didn’t mean it wasn’t news. He leaned back and tried to soak in this temporary lull in his life. Then his eyes skimmed over something that made his blood freeze. Karl Thekla. Shakily Anders placed his coffee mug on his nightstand and laid the paper flat on the bed. He leaned over it, fingers in his hair, and read the story twice in a row quickly. He got up, splashed water on his face, took a Lexapro, and then read it one more time.

Karl had been arrested.

Drug dealing.

Anders padded through the apartment. He could feel his heart beating hard and anxiously tight. He opened his wrong door and removed the ornamental lantern that hung on it. He would feel guilty all day having the clinic closed but he knew that if he tried to treat people he would regret it. His mind wasn’t going to be all there today and he couldn’t run the risk. He closed the door and tried to heave a relaxing sigh. It didn’t help. He paced back to his room, tried to avoid looking at the paper. Should he call Karl? No, Karl was in jail he couldn’t call him. He could call Karl’s husband but that might look strange. It might put Anders in the middle of something he couldn’t afford to be in.

He crawled back into his bed and pulled his laptop from the drawer of his nightstand. He opened it and did a quick search of all the news stories involving Karl’s arrest. There were plenty and certainly enough garbage to sift through that eventually he couldn’t even handle it anymore. Aside from the disgusting comments section—Anders didn’t know why he always looked—there didn’t seem to be one story to follow. Everything was speculation. He supposed if Karl had only been arrested a few days ago then the whole story hadn’t hit yet. He stared at the computer screen for a moment, desperate to do something but too unsure. Maybe the Lexapro finally started to kick in. He had a clear idea. He knew what to do.

Anders got up from his bed again and walked over to the fridge. Because the living room served as a waiting room for the clinic and the actual bedroom had been split by partisans to serve as examining rooms Anders’ bedroom was relegated to be split with the kitchen. He didn’t care. He didn’t have very much and it wasn’t as if he was trying to invite people over and impress them. There were a few things stuck to the fridge with magnets, mostly old bits and scraps of contact information and reminders for personal things that he had long forgotten. But there was also the business card of the private investigator. He had avoided contacting her even when he had nearly been overcome with curiosity as to whether or not she had solved her case. He was just desperate to talk to someone that wasn’t one of his patients. And she had seemed nice. And cute. Anders took the card from its place and went back to his bed. He was too nervous to call her so he opened his email instead.

To: hawkefamilyinv

Subject: Information. (For Marian)

Marian—

My name is Anders. You stopped by my clinic a few weeks ago looking for information about a case you were working. You gave me your card and said if I ever needed anything I could contact you. I was wondering if you had seen the news story about that doctor that got arrested for dealing drugs. Karl Thekla. I went to medical school with him. It doesn’t seem like something he would do. I tried to look into it myself but the internet is a terrible place. I was wondering if you had any information about what was actually going on? I know you aren’t directly affiliated with the police but really anything would be appreciated.

Thank you for your time.

Anders

He hesitated before pressing send, reading and rereading his email several times. Finally, when his eyes were swimming with the words he sent it. As he expected regret immediately filled him. It was a stupid thing to do. She wasn’t going to know anything and was going to think he was an idiot for asking her. Or what if she misconstrued his curiosity as him somehow being involved? He was involved. A little. He had been seeing Karl as a doctor since getting to Kirkwall. He couldn’t go to a regular doctor for fear of giving his real name and having the Ferelden military extradite him back. Karl was writing him prescriptions that he validly needed! A part of him dreaded the notion that it was his fault Karl was arrested. That the drugs he was accused of dealing where the ones he was giving to Anders for his anxiety, depression, and… other things.

A ping brought Anders back from the edge of his self-loathing. He looked at his computer screen as the page refreshed and he had a new email in his inbox. It wasn’t from “hawkefamilyinv” though. It was from “queasycrow”. He opened it.

            To: EMeow4DR

            Subject: FWD: Re: Information. (For Marian)

            hey! glad you took my offer seriously. didn’t think you’d get in touch no matter what was going on. some people don’t trust us private dicks. i heard about the story. sorry to hear that he was a friend of yours. i’ll def look into it and get back to you. try not to stress! get back to you asap.

talk to you soon

marian

ps i like your email!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke brings Anders the information he asked for.

            “You could’ve just gone to Aveline for this.”

            “I did and she told me it wasn’t her jurisdiction and told me if I really wanted the information I could ask Cullen and so I went over and I was super polite, you know, like “Detective Rutherford, nice to see you blah blah blah” but he just refused to even look me in the eye and it just wasn’t worth chasing him around the precinct like a stalker. Things have just been weird between us since that thing with Bethany so I just gave up and came to you.”

            “You really know how to make a guy feel good about himself, Hawke.”

            “Aw, Varric, come on. You know I’m helpless without you. You’re the pork to my chop. The steak to my cheese. The—“

            “Cheese is right, Hawke. You realize that saying things like that is probably the reason you’re single, right?”

            “I thought I was single cause I’ve resigned myself to a fate of pining hopelessly for my best friend.”

            “Here. Just take your information and get out before I laugh beer out my nose.”

            “You’re the best!”

            “Yeah, yeah.”

 

            Hawke opened the door that led into the basement apartment. The waiting room—living room?—had a few people sitting around still. She frowned. It was nine at night on a Tuesday. She had really been hoping there wouldn’t be anyone here. She set herself down in the nearest seat, placed her bag between her feet, and pulled out her cell phone. She could have just emailed him the information he wanted. She knew that. She also knew that she should have done that. But his email had seemed distressed or rather what she had read between the lines of his email seemed distressed so she wanted to be able to offer any comfort she could. After all, she wasn’t exactly delivering him the news that that Thekla guy was being exonerated or anything. She bit her lip and pulled up her email. Varric had sent her the first chapter of the new book he was working on and had asked her to take a look. It was about a private detective so he wanted her input on the specifics.

            When she heard Anders’ voice getting louder she glanced up casually. He was talking to a woman who was holding a baby in her arms. She looked thankful for whatever Anders had done or said as they talked and walked from the hallway back to the waiting room. He paused when he noticed her sitting there. She smiled and offered him a wave which he returned with only the slightest movement of his hand. Once the woman and her baby were on their way he walked over to her. “Marian?” He asked.

            “Call me Hawke,” she corrected. “Uh, I have the information you asked me to get.” Suddenly her determination to be the messenger of this news was faltering. Now that he was standing in front of her with his cautiously hopeful eyes. It was messed up of her to have used this as an excuse to come ogle him. She was a bad person. The worst. “I can just—“ She started, bending over to open the flap of her messenger bag. He would want to be alone not trapped in a conversation with her.

            “Do you mind waiting? There’s just three people I have to see to.” Suddenly her determination to let him deal with this in private was faltering.

            “Yeah. Absolutely. No rush.” She righted herself. He smiled a small, ghost of a smile. She found herself beaming brightly at him. He looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it and merely turned his attention to summoning his next patient. Hawke sank a little in her seat. This was already a disaster. Or was it? He seemed to want to talk to her about it. There really was no reason he should be actively averse to her company, after all. Well, except that he’d looked inside her mouth. That was pretty gross. Not a good first impression to leave on a guy. Not that she was trying to pick him up or anything like that. She was here as a professional.

            And because he was hot in this weirdly unkempt and dead on his feet kind of way.

            Boy, did she have issues.

           

            She was almost done with Varric’s chapter when the last person left the clinic. She looked up from a story that she was beginning to suspect wasn’t about _a_ private detective but rather about _her_ when she heard the dull clunk of Anders locking the front door. He ran a hand over his face in a tired motion before looking over at her. For a moment she thought it looked like he had forgotten she was here. “Um,” he started. “Right. We can talk in the back if you want. I can make coffee.”

            “I don’t drink coffee,” she said as she stood, slinging her bag onto her shoulder. “I brought beer.” Like a creep, she thought. “Figured we could both use one after a busy day.”

            “I don’t drink,” he said quickly. “I know that’s weird. I—“

            “It’s not weird.” She shrugged her shoulders, feeling a little like an idiot. This was going terribly and they hadn’t even gotten to the terrible part. “Lots of people don’t drink. Not a big deal.” He looked at her and she wondered if she was blushing. There was such an intensity to his eyes. She was… thinking stupid things. Intensity to his eyes? She was blaming that one on having just read Varric’s writing.

            “Do you drink tea?”

            “Yeah!” A tension that had descended lifted slightly. She saw him relax a bit and that made her relax in turn. She could do this. Talk to an attractive man like a human being without making an utter ass of herself. He beckoned that she follow him down the hallway. They passed the room they had spoken in last time. He led her through a door and into a small, cramped space that looked to be a kitchen… with a bed and dresser in it. She hadn’t really considered the idea that he might have been running this clinic out of his home. She had noticed that it was an apartment but thought he just found it easier to rent that sort of space for his purposes. It occurred to her that a free clinic probably didn’t turn too much a profit. Her esteem for Anders grew.

            “I’m sorry it’s so messy,” he said as he bent to pick clothes up off the floor and toss them into a corner by his bed. “I would’ve cleaned up some if I had known you were coming.” He cast a look over his shoulder. She knew she should have emailed him. She had just gone with her gut and come over and her gut had a bad habit of pushing her to do things other people thought were weird. This was no exception apparently.

            “Sorry. That’s my fault. Sometimes I do stuff without really thinking.”

            “No, it’s fine. I’m glad you came.” Another of those awkward pauses where she just felt herself smiling. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll put on some tea and then… do you mind if I change out of these scrubs while the water is boiling?” Hawke placed her bag on the floor and kept herself on the kitchen side of the room. She didn’t want to invade his privacy by trouncing about in his bedroom part.

            “I promise not to look.”

            “I was going to go into the bathroom,” he said as he placed the kettle on the stove and turned it on. She tugged at her earlobe a little uncertainly.

            “It was a bad joke. You’ll get used to them. They’re pretty much all I know.” She thought she saw him smirking as he grabbed some clothes from his dresser and left her for the moment. It took everything in her power not to slam her head against something hard. She was acting like a moron. Did she really only have two settings? Professional and asshole? Where was the in between? Where was the subtlety? “Do you mind if I pick out my own mug?” She called. There was a distinct moment of confused silence on his part.

            “Go right ahead. Cabinet above the sink.”

She took off her jacket and slung it over her bag. Idly she wondered if she should have dressed nicer. Skinny jeans and an oversized flannel shirt didn’t exactly scream “I’m an adult and have a job and I’m here doing that job” and it certainly didn’t scream “You’re sexy please think I’m sexy too”. There wasn’t anything she could do about it now so she tried to ignore that concern. Hawke opened the cabinet and looked at the mugs she had to choose from. Whenever she went to a friend’s house she liked to pick a mug from their collection and then from then on out it was her mug whenever she was over. She liked to think that her friends didn’t even use the mug when she wasn’t there because it was relegated to her. Anders had mostly normal looking mugs. Some were chipped and some were clearly gotten from random free give away type things. She frowned a little and pushed up onto her toes to see if there were any gems hiding in the back.

“See anything you like?” Anders asked as he reentered the room. Hawke reached into the back and pulled out a mug in the shape of a rooster. She turned to face him, cradling the mug to her chest.

“Yes!” She exclaimed eagerly. There were two things she liked. This mug because, well, it was shaped like a rooster which meant that it was shaped like a cock and her humor was just that lame. And Anders in his faded T-shirt and cat print pajama bottoms.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said while gesturing at his outfit. “I’m pretty tired and really just wanted to get comfortable.”

“Nope, don’t mind. They’re cute.” She tried to ignore the look he gave when she said it. Amused and a little judgmental. She worried that she was being too transparent but she had such a poor filter. “I’ve chosen this mug.” She held it up for him to see. He smiled that same small smile she had seen before and wondered if there was anything she could do to get a real one out of him.

“That’s a horrible mug, Hawke.”

“It’s the one I’m gonna use from now on.” He tilted his head a little but didn’t comment. She was relieved. That was just another phrase that had tumbled from her mouth without thought. She would like to hang out with him again. Even in just a friendship capacity. He seemed interesting, mysterious even. The kettle whistled and Anders came over he grabbed a mug from above her and poured himself a cup. He took her mug when she offered and filled it for her. She held it between her hands, letting the steam waft over her face. Anders was tentatively sipping even though there was no way it was cool enough to drink. “Um, Anders?”

“Mhm?” He mumbled. She really didn’t want to have to bring the Thekla stuff up now. He looked relaxed finally. His face was less tense, softer as he let the soothing scent of the tea wash over him.

“I have the information about Thekla’s case.” He stood straighter from where he had been leaning against his counter. Hawke bit her lip and put her mug down. She went over to her bag and rifled around until she pulled out the manila envelope. “It isn’t… Well, it’s not what I think you were hoping I’d find.” She had found her professionalism. It was about time. Above his mug Anders’ face was contorted with worry. “Apparently Dr. Thekla had been dealing drugs and—“

“Karl wrote prescriptions for people if they needed them. Maybe if they didn’t have the insurance he might give them some samples or something. But to call it drug dealing—“

“It wasn’t just prescription stuff. And it wasn’t just samples.” She hated the way he was looking at her. It was if she had stabbed him straight in the heart and was twisting the blade. This was the worst part of the job. When things didn’t go how they were supposed to. When she had to deliver bad news to someone who had reached out to her for help.

“What do you mean?” He breathed, his voice tight.

“An undercover cop got him to sell him heroin. A lot of heroin. And when they raided his apartment they found a lot more. His husband says he didn’t know it was happening but it seems kind of impossible that that’s the case.” She sighed and held the envelope out to him. “If you don’t believe me you can look at this stuff. I’m…” She had been about to say that she wasn’t really supposed to let him see most of the stuff in the envelope. She was really supposed to just shred it since some of it Varric had gone out of his way to get for her through less than legal channels. The words died in her throat. She placed the envelope on top of her bag.“…sorry, Anders. He was your friend?”

“We went to medical school in Ferelden together,” he repeated from his email. He was staring blankly at the floor. His eyes dark and wet. She wanted to offer him a hug but didn’t think that it was the right thing to do. She just stayed where she was standing. “We lost contact when he moved to Kirkwall. We hadn’t spoken in years and then I came here and I needed a doctor myself, someone I could trust and—“ He stopped abruptly. His mouth was a thin, straight line.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated because she didn’t really know what else to say. “Do you… want a hug?” He looked up at her. His eyes sad and soulful. She took a step closer though he hadn’t responded yet. He placed his mug on the counter beside hers and shook his head the slightest bit.

“No, I…” He trailed off, his mouth working itself into a frown. She extended a hand and rested it gently on his arm. She hoped it would provide a small comfort at least. He stared down at her hand and then slowly at her. He seemed distant and uncertain.

“Anders,” she tried. Quickly he nodded his head and placed a hand over his face. She wrapped her arms around his chest, felt his own drape over her shoulders. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and she could hear the sniffles as he tried to contain his tears. She hugged him tightly, the fact that he was essentially a stranger only available to a part of her that she figured was rationality and not really something she paid attention to anyway.

“Thank you,” he mumbled when he had finally calmed. They separated and he quickly reached for the mug. She took hers up as well for something to do with her hands. She sipped it. The tea was lukewarm. “You should probably head home. It’s getting late and this isn’t the safest part of town.” She shrugged.

“I can take a cab if I need to. Are you okay? Do you want me to leave?” He looked torn. She thought she understood. He probably didn’t want to be alone but he also probably didn’t want to be with someone he barely knew.

“I think I need to be alone.”

“No problem.” She placed the mug back on the counter and went to her stuff. She put her jacket on and slipped her bag over one shoulder, stuffing the envelope back inside unceremoniously. He followed her into the hallway and the living room. When they got to the door he unlocked it and opened it for her. His movements were slow and hesitant. She hoped he was going to be okay. “Call up a friend or something to come keep you company. Being alone is the worst when you’re sad. And,” she rolled her shoulders in a casual shrug, “if no one’s around you can always call me or email me or text me. I don’t mind. I don’t have a lot going on and I like talking. So… bye, Anders. Feel better, okay?”

“Goodbye, Hawke.”

She left and he shut the door after her. She listened to the sound of him locking it, heard him shuffling back towards his room, watched the lights go out in the windows. She sighed and walked towards the bus stop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke invites Anders to hang out at The Hanged Man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning portion of this is told through texts between Anders and Hawke. The dashes between certain texts indicate how many days between they are.

            (627-426-4295): hey its hawke. just cheaking in to see how youre doing.

            (Anders): Thanks, Hawke. I’m doing well. Keeping busy.

            (Hawke): thats good. but not too busy i hope. thats no good either.

//

            (Anders): You never mentioned how much I owe you for finding that information for me. I’m sorry. I got so upset the other night I forgot to even ask.

            (Hawke): dont worry about it. id feel like a dick asking for money for such shit news.

            (Anders): That doesn’t seem like a very smart business practice. I’d feel guilty if I was the case that put you into bankruptcy.

            (Hawke): lol no usually i charge extra for bad news cause i hate having to give it.

            (Anders): Making an exception on my part? I feel special. :)

            (Hawke): good! youre a super generous cool guy to run that clinic. i would pretty much be a super villain if i took money from you.

////

            (Hawke): hey so quick question: my friends and i are going out tonight and i thought if you were free you should come out. we re going to a bar but you dont have to drink or anything you know just for some conversation and stuff. no pressure or anything!

            (Anders): I’m not sure. It’s been a pretty long day at the clinic. Where is the place you’re meeting at?

            (Hawke): the hanged man. its in lowtown. not super far from the clinic. come whenever! we ll be there all night probably.

            (Anders): What time are you getting there?

            (Hawke): 7ish

 

            Anders stood outside the bar and tried to quell the panic that had settled in his gut. This was a mistake. She had probably meant to send that invitation to someone else. It was hard to convince himself of that since the invitation had mentioned that he shouldn’t feel weird about not drinking. He licked his lips and took a steadying breath. This was a mistake. He should never have emailed her about Karl. He should never had responded to her messages. He should never have let her hold him while he cried. Of course, when was the last time he did anything that wasn’t a mistake?

            He opened the door and immediately was assaulted by the smell of stale beer and too many people packed into a place. The smell reminded him of his time with the Wardens, of Oghren, of the way it had felt to belong for a time. He tried to clamp down the onslaught of nostalgia and melancholy. None of that mattered anymore. He wasn’t that person anymore. He was stronger than his past. He repeated his mantras to himself and looked around for any sign of Hawke. If he didn’t see after a quick once around he would leave. That way he wouldn’t feel guilty about ignoring her invitation and he wouldn’t have to feel awkward about being out. It didn’t matter. He heard her voice over the din of other people’s conversations. He looked in the direction it had come from, a table towards the back. He pushed forwards.

            When she caught sight of him her face broke out in a smile. It lit up her eyes and all the uncertainty Anders had felt on his way here faded fast. It was good to be around people that weren’t his patients. It was good to not be so lonely. He smiled back at her and waved. When he finally got to the table he stood awkwardly by the corner Hawke was sitting at. He could feel the heaviness of all the eyes of her friends. He was a stranger. They were a veritable gang. Hawke thrust her foot out and kicked the man that was sitting in the seat next to her. “Move over, Carver!” The man grumbled but did as he was bid, casting dark look up that Anders tried his best to ignore. “Everyone this is Anders. He’s the doctor I mentioned might stop by. Anders,” she turned to him as he lowered himself into the seat that had been vacated. “This is,” she sighed and began to rattle off names, “Varric, Isabela, Fenris, Merrill, and my little baby brother Carver.”

            “Fuck off,” Carver shot though Hawke didn’t seem to find any issue with it. Anders waved at them all. He tried to commit their names to memory, match them to their faces. They all looked different enough. It shouldn’t have been so hard. As casually as he could manage he angled himself in Hawke’s direction.

            “I’m glad you showed up,” she said eagerly. He noticed she was wearing another outfit comprised of an oversized shirt and tight pants. It wasn’t an aesthetic he usually found himself drawn to. There was something different about it on Hawke though. It just worked. He smiled at her.  

            “It’s been a while since I went out to a bar. I really only got here a few months ago. I don’t have many friends.” He didn’t know what he was telling her that. He watched her sip her beer, her eyes watching him intently as he spoke.

            “Hey, Blondie.” It took Anders a moment to realize that he was the one being addressed. He blinked over at the short man wearing a deep V-neck shirt. His chest was ridiculously hairy and apparently on display. Anders remembered him as Varric. “You’re new so that means we’re going to spend a lot of time asking you very uncomfortable questions to see if you can handle hanging out with us.” He saw Hawke make an annoyed face, prepping herself to defend him against her friends. Instead Anders smirked at the other man.

            “It takes a lot to make me uncomfortable.” He watched Varric’s eyebrows shift in slight appreciation.

            “Well, all right then.”

 

            The night was progressing well. Anders had drank half a beer so far which was a first for him in months. He had explained to a concerned Hawke that he had misspoken the other day because he was so tense. He didn’t not drink he just didn’t really drink that much. She seemed relieved that he hadn’t felt pressured due to her friends though really none had tried to force anything upon him. Everyone seemed fine. He and Varric were getting along splendidly. Isabela was fun. Merrill was a little strange but most of her attention was focused on Carver anyway so Anders didn’t focus on it too much. Carver and Fenris he could have done without. They both seemed to be giving him the dirtiest looks. Anytime Hawke’s brother opened his mouth it was to complain or try to contradict something Hawke had said. Fenris said very little.

            Isabela whispered something to Varric who broke off in the middle of his story to listen. They both looked like the cat who had eaten the canary and for a moment Anders wondered if there was something going on between them. Hawke had filled him in on the friend group gossip earlier. Carver and Merrill were dating but her brother hated to say the word and was infinitely embarrassed by the idea that everyone was aware of his private life. Varric had a long distance relationship with a woman named Bianca that none of them had ever met. When Anders had asked if Bianca was real Hawke had only shrugged. There was no way to know. Fenris and Isabela were sleeping together on occasion but it was supposed to be a secret and whoops she hadn’t meant to tell him and she made him promise to keep it a secret at well. She had placed a hand on his arm when she made him swear it, curling their pinkies together in an unbreakable oath. He couldn’t help from smiling. In fact, he couldn’t help from smiling most of the night.

            “Hawke, it’s your turn to by a round,” Varric informed her. Hawke scrunched her nose in mock irritation.

“Everyone in?” She asked. Anders shook his head and so did Merrill. At least he wasn’t the only lightweight. Hawke nodded and hopped up from her seat and walked over the bar. Isabela smiled slyly and leaned over the table in Anders direction.

            “Truth or dare, Anders.”

            “What?” He asked, genuinely confused.

            “Trust me, Blondie, if Isabela’s making a point of asking while Hawke’s away you might want to take the opportunity to avoid getting humiliated in front of her,” Varric offered with a tone of sagely advice. Anders furrowed his brow. He had figured the night was going to devolve into getting him flustered anyway. It didn’t seem possible that he would get away without some hazing.

            “All right. Truth.” It seemed the safer of the two. Lest Hawke come back to find him pantless or something equally obscene. The other woman very nearly crowed with delight.

            “Knew it. So, Anders, do you think our little Hawke is cute?” He felt his cheeks grow hot but tried to mask his discomfort.

            “You mean Carver?” He nodded towards the younger Hawke sibling. The look he received in return was not a friendly one. Everyone else—except Fenris who apparently smiled even less than Anders himself did—thought it was good fun.

            “She means Marian,” Carver stated the obvious. He turned his attention to Isabela. “And that’s pretty much a waste of a question isn’t it?”

            “He has looked at her nearly exclusively all night,” Fenris decided to add. Anders felt on edge. It wasn’t an attack, he knew that, but he felt caged in by their accusation. Though that wasn’t the correct word either since they really were just stating facts. He knew he shouldn’t have drank.

            “Are we back in junior high? Why don’t you just slip me a note asking me if I like Hawke check yes or no,” he joked to alleviate some of his tension. Varric slapped his hand on the table in amusement.

            “He’s got you there, Bela.” Isabela straightened her shoulders, not offended but Anders could see she wasn’t about let this drop.

            “I was trying to be nice. It’s more polite than asking him if he wants to fuck her.”

            “Ugh, you’re not supposed to say that word in reference to my sister!” Carver groaned, covering his ears dramatically. Anders was grateful that he was taking some of the attention off of him.

            “Do you really think that Hawke’s a virgin, Carver?” Merrill chirped. Carver just shook his head, trying to drown out the conversation. “She isn’t. She told me.” Isabela was laughing again and this time it was at Carver’s expense. Without realizing Anders let his gaze wander to where Hawke was standing at the bar waiting for her round. She was standing on her tip toes, elbows propped up on the bar itself. He supposed a younger brother wouldn’t want to think about their sister having sex, but Anders couldn’t imagine a world in which Hawke hadn’t. She was beautiful and funny and personable. She was the type of person that everyone just automatically liked.

            His attention was called back when Isabela started waving a napkin at him. He plucked it from her fingers and looked down at the damp, smudged surface. In soggy script she had scribbled: Do you like Hawke? Beneath it were two boxes one marked yes and one marked no. He shook his head laughed. “Really?” He asked good-naturedly. She fixed him with a suggestive look and rolled the pen she had used across the table to him. Anders looked down at the note, over at Hawke who was somehow managing to carry the drinks back towards them, and back. He took the pen in his hand despite the silliness of it all. He checked one of the boxes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and the girls.

            (Hawke): lemme know when you get home safe

            (Anders): Lol, you told me that before I left. Also, I JUST left.

            (Hawke): i worry!

            (Anders): I’m safe.

            (Anders): Let me know that you got home safe?

            (Hawke): IM home. nd sfe. wish you had stayed out. you couldvve sleep over!

            (Anders): But you live further away from the bar than I do. It would make more sense for you to sleep at my place.

            (Hawke): why are you awake? did i wake you up?

            (Anders): You didn’t wake me.

            (Hawke): FIRST QUESTION PLEASE

            (Anders): I was waiting to hear you were safe ;)

/

            (Hawke): i take it back. not safe. so hungover. dying.

 

           

            “Who do you know that’s awake and sober enough to be texting you that quickly?” Isabela asked while stirring her Bloody Mary. She held up a hand. “No wait. Don’t tell me. It’s Doctor Hot-Pants.” She waggled her eyebrows and Merrill giggled. Hawke put her phone down on the table and tried to fix her face into a serious expression. It should have been easy considering her head was still pounding and her eyes felt like they were ready to fall out. How many shots had she done last night? She had had a smudge of red lipstick across the bridge of her nose when she woke up this morning. She didn’t even own red lipstick. What a night.

            “His name is Anders,” she corrected even though she knew that Isabela didn’t actually think Dr. Hot-Pants was his name. “And he was just telling me things I could do to get rid of hangover.” As if that settled that she picked up a piece of bread from the basket in the middle of the table and tore off a piece. Generally a good portion of Ladies Brunch was spent discussing men but Hawke didn’t really want to discuss Anders. She didn’t know if he qualified as gossip worthy. After all, there wasn’t really anything going on between them. Just friendly conversation.

            “Was one of the cures an injection of his—“ Isabela started.

            “Food’s here!” Merrill called, silencing the other woman in her dirty tracks. Hawke was relieved. She could feel her ears turning red at the thought. She couldn’t imagine Anders saying anything like that. Well, she could imagine it. She could imagine it too well. “Where did you meet him, Hawke? He seems very nice,” Merrill continued once the waiter had left them with their food.

            “I was investigating something for a job,” Hawke said casually as she stuffed bacon into her mouth. “He was on the list of people I had to question.” She glanced at her phone as if talking about him would make him send another text faster.

            “You told Fenris you don’t get involved with people associated with your job,” Isabela reminded her. Hawke took a moment to chew before responding. It gave her a second to think it all over too which was good.

            “It’s different,” she stated simply. As she had guessed the answer didn’t satisfy Isabela. The other woman looked at her expectantly. Hawke sighed. “I was hired to find Fenris. Anders was just someone who had information. It’s not the same situation at all.” To her it had felt like taking advantage. A part of her was convinced that Fenris had only decided he had feelings for her because she had dropped the cause his ex had hired her for once she found out his side of the story. She had lied and told Danarius that she had found evidence indicating that Fenris had been in Kirkwall but was gone now. He had simply been grateful. After coming out of an abusive relationship Hawke hadn’t felt that she was the best option for him. She was a mess herself. Though she had been skeptical when Isabela confided that the two friends were sleeping together Hawke had to admit both parties seemed better for it. “Fenris isn’t upset or anything, is he?” She asked tentatively. “He was kind of quiet last night.” Isabela waved it away.

            “No. You know how he feels about doctors. Once he heard that it was pretty much a lost cause.” Hawke nodded absently as her phone lit up. She tried to suppress her smile as she read the newest message. Isabela reached over and quickly stole the phone. Hawke gasped and extended her hand but her friend slapped it away gently. Hawke watched with mounting embarrassment as she scrolled up to get more of the conversation.

            “Oh, is it dirty texts?” Merrill asked. Hawke put a hand over her face. They weren’t. There was really no reason to feel this way. Maybe it was the fact that there was a distinct lack of anything substantial in the messages that she was embarrassed. She didn’t need Isabela and Merrill seeing how bad her game was.

            “Laugh out loud. Isabela just called you doctor hot-pants,” Isabela read. “Ah, well, I’m glad somebody noticed.” She rolled her eyes. “I think I’m going to put that as your name in my phone. Dr. Hot-Pants.” Hawke sank down in her seat. As Isabela came to the most recent text her face split in a grin that Hawke recognized as trouble.

            “Please don’t do anything,” she pleaded.

            “Oh, come on, Hawke. He’s asking what he should call you. This is the perfect time to get something good out there. Hm,” she placed the phone down in front of her and began thinking. Hawke didn’t want to even know what Isabela might come up with. She tried to make a lunge for the phone Isabela’s hands were faster. She tossed it to Merrill instead. “Type something!” She laughed. Hawke snatched the phone from the slightly smaller woman just in time to see that she had sent a message. She looked at Merrill curiously.

            “Sweetheart? That’s your embarrassing name he should call me?” Merrill nodded and Isable made a strangled noise at her lost fun. Hawke settled back in her seat, her phone in her lap this time, and stared down at it. It wasn’t whatever terrible thing that Isabela was going to come up with but it still had the potential to be humiliating. “He isn’t gonna text me back after this. You guys are the worst.”

            “You really like him?” Merrill asked. Hawke looked up and chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered it. She shrugged. She didn’t know him very well. But he was funny when you got him to stop being so serious. And he was nice. And he was cute. “That must be why Carver hated him so much.” Isabela snorted into her drink.

            “Kitten, Carver hated Dr. Hot-Pants cause of the way he was staring at Hawke’s tits.” Merrill nodded as if Isabela’s explanation made all the sense in the world.

            “First of all, Carver hates everybody except Merrill.” The woman in question blushed. “Second of all, I never wear anything where you can even see that I have tits so there’s no way he was staring at them. Third of all,” she paused as her phone lit up. She looked down, her chest tight as she opened the message.

            “Well?” Isabela insisted. “You aren’t going to keep us in suspense are you?” Hawke looked up and felt herself smiling like an idiot.

            “Okay, sweetheart,” she repeated the message.

 

 

            Later on Hawke was roused from her a much needed and moderately deserved nap by the sound of Carver thumping his fist against her bedroom door. She knew it was Carver because he was the only person in the entire world who seemed to think that knocking and punching were the same thing. “What?” She called, sitting up in her bed and rubbing her eyes with her fists. The door opened and there stood Carver, frowning and uncomfortable even still on the outside of the bedroom. She wondered what he thought he might find in here that made him so uncomfortable. A harem of men? Hawke wished.

            “Merrill wants to know if I can sleep at her place tonight. She wants to go on a hike early.

            “I didn’t realize I had become the arbiter of your relationship.” She tilted her head. “I suppose it’s only fair considering she was my friend first. I decree—“

            “I wasn’t asking your permission,” he explained testily. “I needed to know if you had us planned for that divorce case tonight.” She had forgotten about that. She needed Carver to drive the car while she took the photos. Of course, there might not even be anything to find out. Husbands weren’t always cheating on their wives. Some of them really did just work late. If that was the case—and from what Hawke learned already she thought it was—then it would be a waste to make Carver miss a nice evening with his girlfriend. She was pretty much the only thing that kept him from being a total jerk all of the time. Hawke was even convinced that she had seen Carver smiling since getting together with her friend.

            “Nope. Don’t need you,” she answered. Carver gave her a look that said he didn’t really believe her. Then he seemed to decide that it didn’t matter one bit to him if she wanted to make her own life more difficult. He shrugged.

            “All right.” He closed the door after himself and Hawke lay back down. She missed Bethany all the time but it was times like these that she missed her most. She could call her, Hawke supposed, but with the time difference and Bethany’s busy med-school schedule it just wasn’t worth it at the moment. She would need to call her and update her on everything. Not that there was a whole lot to update on but at least explaining everything to Bethany would give Hawke a chance to sort it through for herself. Isabela and Merrill had been encouraging but she needed her sister to tell her just how far off base she might actually have been with Anders.

            She smiled a little as she thought his name. Then she frowned when she realized she was smiling. She was sick. This was sick! She rolled over onto her stomach and covered her head with a pillow. She would try to get as much sleep in as possible before she had to go spend the whole night sitting outside some man’s office. Maybe she could ask one of her insomniac friends to keep her company...


End file.
